As they debate where the iconic duet will fit in the show, I move to the baby grand onstage. I focus on the music I’m playing, just the music. Even when Sawyer arrives to practice the closing number for the first time, I concentrate on my job. We rehearse the music only, not the dancing yet. It’s a little ridiculous how on fire I am hearing him sing an old standard. That night, I focus on work too, when I’m home alone. With my business growing, I need to focus on marketing and advertising even more. I edit more training videos, then post them, trying not to think about Sawyer most of the time.
The next day I don’t talk to Sawyer about the great banging. But I do sneak a few inhales of his cedar-and-citrus scent when he comes into my training nook in the morning, smelling too good. “Want to review your sequences?”
I want to review your tongue.
“Sure,” I say, and I show him the training sequences that I’ll work on tomorrow with the dog extras here at Dog Tails. The next scene I’m handling for the show will be shot at the local dog park later this week. I need to make sure the background pups are ready.
He sits next to me, close, but not close enough as I show him my tablet.
“They look…efficient,” he says, looking up, his dark eyes flickering with so much innuendo I nearly melt.
“Good. That’s good,” I say, more breathy than anyone discussing efficiency should be.
“It is. Really,reallygood,” he rasps out, and I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore. I just feel all this electricity crackling between us.
So much it takes me a few seconds to remember what I needed. “Oh, and you have the talent waivers?”
“All set,” he says, then he lists the dog actors.
Finally, my focus snaps into place as I think about the work I’ll be doing with them tomorrow.
This—this working together—is my reminder that there’s more at stake than this bad desire.
This TV show is my chance to make my mark. To build my business. I can’t get distracted, and workplace romances only ever lead to disaster.
I can find disaster well enough on my own.
* **
A couple days later, I’m looking forward to our dance lesson more than is healthy. So much that I’m spending an inordinate amount of timein the morning hunting through my closet for something to wear tonight. I hardly ever do this sort of outfit prep. But as I flick through slinky dress after slinkier dress, I’m wondering if this dance lesson will end the way the last one did. Do I want it to?
Of course you do. You know the answer to that. And you should resist.
“I will,” I say to the voice in my head as I pick a dress. Red. Tight. With a skyscraper slit.
Well, it’s good for dancing. That’s all.
I check the time. I need to get my ass to the dog park right away. I’m not only working the shoot, but Captain scored a spot as a dog extra, along with Dandelion and Gunner. Not Shortcake though. He’s been better since our session, but he’s too…unpredictably humpy.
Captain and I hop into my car and zip over to the dog park without any wheezes from Roxie. That’s unusual, but there’s no time to linger on her. When I get out, I spot Poorna standing by the white gate, chatting with Alexandra.
I grip Captain’s leash tighter.
Will she ask out Sawyer? At the first shoot she said she thought he was cute. Jealousy flares inside me again, hot and bright. This is so not like me. I’m not a jealous person. But I’m secretly thrilled he’s not slated to come to the shoot today, so she won’t have a chance at him. Will she hunt for another one though? These thoughts race through my head as I march into the park and barely notice the man heading my way.
“Hey, Chlo-Chlo,” he says, and talk about a romance disaster—that’s August for you. Irritation floods me as I stop in my tracks and look at my ex’s sharp nose, his shoulder-length blond hair, and his fake-ass smile as he adds, “How’s it going? I see you got a cool new gig.”
I try to tamp down my frustration. I don’t want to bring any bad blood to the set. But when I respond with, “And I presume you’re still working with daddy,” I’m pretty sure it comes out dripping with sarcasm.
Oops.
He rocks on his heels, flashing a smarmy smile. He doesn’t even have the decency to say hello to my dog, who’s sitting perfectly patiently by my side. “Yup,” August says, looking very pleased with himself. “We’re growing the company. And this show?” He waves to the dog park. “It’s the talk of the town. I’m so impressed. I always believed in you.”
He always believed in stealing my ideas. “Is that why you got me fired at the last job?”
Captain barks once. Unusual for him. But then again, he’s a good judge of character.
My ex-husband tilts his head to the side, smiling placatingly. “You’re not holding a grudge over that, are you? It was a bummer, like I said at the time. And such a surprise to me.”
